


the witching hour (purple midnight)

by ElasticElla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Cedric Diggory Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: The first time Harry notices Cedric is in his third year. Dementors swarm the pitch, and everything goes black. He wakes up later in the hospital wing, the Hufflepuff seeker sleeping in a chair beside him, and Ron tells him in excited whispers how Diggory caught him and the match was declared null.





	the witching hour (purple midnight)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).

The first time Harry notices Cedric is in his third year. Dementors swarm the pitch, and everything goes black. He wakes up later in the hospital wing, the Hufflepuff seeker sleeping in a chair beside him, and Ron tells him in excited whispers how Diggory caught him and the match was declared null. 

Harry looks at the poster boy for Hufflepuff- loyal, good, undeniably handsome- and can’t help but think he would have made a better Boy-Who-Lived. 

(Cedric wakes up and asks how he’s feeling, listens intently, is so _good_.) 

. 

Then again, after Diggory caught him, after Gryffindor won the rematch, after all’s said and done, they didn’t talk. It wasn’t on purpose, not on Harry’s side anyways. They waved and nodded to each other in the halls sometimes, not that often- Cedric’s always surrounded by his admirers. There was so much going on with the dementors and Black and it’s not like Harry hangs out with any upper years in other houses. 

So maybe the real first time, the important first time that Harry notices Cedric is the summer before fourth year. Cedric’s gotten even more impossibly good looking, and Harry strikes up a conversation about the Irish and Bulgarian seekers. Diggory talks with his whole body, hands gesticulating and eyes dancing, a wild grin on his face as he talks about death-defying stunts. He looks like a muggle fairy prince and _oh_\- 

Harry trips, falls over a hidden root, falls in love, Cedric catching him again.

.

Cedric’s going to the Yule Ball with Cho, and Harry feels like a complete idiot for asking him. The pity in his eyes after, of course Cedric’s fucking straight, he’s the most perfect boy in the world. Harry’s never going to be able to face him again. (He was such a fool for thinking the bath comment was a come-on, he’s never listening to Hermione’s dating advice again.)

He goes to the ball with Luna, her robes mercifully eccentric enough that no one pays much attention to him. In spite of himself, he even has a good time, twirling around the floor in random patterns. 

.

Harry screams for Madam Pomfrey the moment the portkey lands. Cedric is unconscious, took a crucio to the head, and Harry keeps thinking of Neville’s parents in St. Mungo’s, and god he hopes to hell it isn’t like that. 

Moody wants to talk to him, and Harry doesn’t fucking care, isn’t letting Cedric out of his sight. He can’t stop remembering the flash of green that grazed by his ear, a twitch away from killing him. Madam Pomfrey has a silencing spell up as she heals Cedric, and outside of it Harry tells Dumbledore and McGonagall and Snape and Moody and Cedric’s dad about Voldemort’s return. 

Moody goes crazy in the middle, and it turns out he isn’t really Moody, and Harry would care so much more if Cedric weren’t a few meters away, twitching as Pomfrey uses a yellow spell on him. 

It takes a week before Cedric wakes up. Harry has never abused his boy-who-lived status so hard, and doesn’t give a damn, doesn’t let Pomfrey kick him out. (If he hadn’t suggested they take the cup together, if they just portkeyed back immediately, if, if, if-)

Cedric’s eyes crack open, a wry smile when he spots him. “I can’t believe you got me out of there. You damn hero.” 

Harry’s eyes are wet, he’s so very relieved, and then Pomfrey’s there, saving him from undoubtedly saying something stupid. 

(Cedric was conscious the whole time he learns, searches his memory, tries to remember if he said anything incriminating.)

.

Harry’s in his fifth year, and Cedric in his seventh. Hermione made a pointed comment about studying harder for exams, and on a whim he asked Cedric if he wanted to do exam prep with him on Saturday. It wouldn’t be the same stuff, but the test formats are similar, and okay, the whole thing was a pretense. (But he didn’t want it to be like third year all over again, and maybe his hopes are up since he heard Diggory’s bi and him and Cho broke up.)

Cedric brings a few friends, Hermione and Ginny tag along too, and then suddenly there’s a weekly meeting for interhouse exam preparation. Hermione spends a good ten minutes praising him for the idea, his ears burning, and Harry doesn’t have the heart to correct her. (Ron isn’t interested in the sessions, until he hears Susan Bones attends, and suddenly has questions about Charms that only she can answer.)

Umbridge tries to shut them down, underestimates how very determined Hufflepuffs can be. (And trying to get between Hermione and her studying? A terrible decision that resulted in consequences Harry would rather not ever think about.)

.

For the first day of spring, Cedric smuggles a pack of hard butterbeer into Hogwarts, him and Harry picking the tallest, flattest bit of roof they can find. It overlooks the lake, and has a perfect view of the stars as night falls. 

“You are a terrible influence,” Harry declares with a grin, polishing off his bottle. “I can’t believe they made you Head Boy.” 

Cedric snorts, tossing him a new one, “Your rule breaking is legendary Potter, pretty sure you’re the bad influence.” 

He lets it go, staring up at the stars. Time passes all too quickly, but a warming charm keeps them from leaving. Between stories and jokes, Harry finds himself captured by the stars over and over again. They’re so much brighter than they are in Surrey, and he finds the dog star easily. He should write to Sirius, see how he’s doing. Maybe this summer they can take a vacation, somewhere safe in the muggle world. Get a pair of disguises and-

Harry can feel the weight of Cedric’s gaze, his neck burning. It’s odd- usually it’s the other way around. (Cedric’s the pretty one.)

He meets his eyes, and Cedric asks, “Do you still have nightmares about it? The graveyard?” 

The words are a splash of cold water, and Harry feels like a shallow twat. “Yeah. I’ve uh, never slept well.” 

Cedric grimaces, clapping his shoulder. His hand doesn’t move, a warm brand, and Harry’s afraid to breathe too hard as if it might disappear. 

“Yeah,” Cedric murmurs, and then they’re slowly colliding, lips on a crash course. Their noses bump, and Harry flushes, his inexperience must be showing, but Cedric only cups his cheek, kissing him again. 

(And again, and again, and again.)


End file.
